Of Silver Bells
by WhiteRookBlackBishop
Summary: John and Harry are making the most of their holiday cheer. A little magic could make it even more special. A oneshot from my Potterlock verse. You need not read Of Silver Bees to understand this!


**AN: This is a part of but not completely related to my Potterlock fic. You need not read "Of Silver Bees", though another reader would be much appreciated!**

**This is my Christmas gift to Old Ping Hai, my biggest fan and personal cheerleader.**

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><p>"Shh!"<p>

The hiss did very little to stifle the giggles, though the boy had tried. Underneath a bedsheet, late at night, an eleven-year-old girl and an eight-year-old boy curled into each other to keep warm.

"Do it again," the girl demanded.

"Just be quiet," the boy told her.

"John, come on, just do it already!"

John touched the sprig of holly in his sister's hands and they waited. The little berries quivered. They watched with bated breath as the berries split open down the middle, opening and closing repeatedly. Harry giggled again, unable to help herself. John grinned and tapped the leaves again.

"_Ma ma ma, ma ma ma_," the holly started to sing. Harry gasped and almost dropped the plant. John allowed himself a snigger as she held the berries close to her face as they sang a wordless version of Jingle Bells.

"John, do you believe in Santa?" Harry asked quietly, her eyes still on the plant. The berries went silent and closed their mouths, sealing themselves again. John was no longer focused on them. John pulled his legs up to his chest.

"Do you?" he asked.

"Well," Harry lowered the berries and stared off into space. "It would be nice to believe. It would be nice if he could come and visit, just once. One year, that's all I ask."

John nodded, thinking to himself. He placed his chin on his knee. He tapped the holly again. This time, they didn't even open their mouths, and simply quivered where they sat.

"You're magic, John. And if magic exists… So does Santa," she said.

"Maybe mum and dad scare him away every year," John suggested. His sister smiled softly at him and nodded.

"That must be it," she said. "Dad must sit too close to the fireplace. If Santa were to try coming in, he would have a bottle thrown at him."

"And if he came in through the furnace in the kitchen, mum would screech at him like a banshee," John giggled. Harry hugged him tight.

"Maybe someday he'll conquer his fears and visit us."

John nodded, his smile fading as his face was hidden from his sister.

"_We wish you a Merry Christmas_," Harry sang softly. John's smile returned as she sang to him, and he hugged his sister back.

"Shut the fuck up!" a bang on the other side of the wall was all they needed to go completely silent again.

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><p>"John, John, wake up!" Harry hissed. John groaned and lifted his head, rubbing his eyes. "John, he was here. Get up!"<p>

John slowly pushed himself off the bed and wrapped the bedsheet around himself. He blinked sleepily and watched as Harry tore into the newspaper-wrapped packages left in the corner of the room. She pulled out a pink dress and pressed it to her chest. John smiled and sat back down on the bed, watching as she twirled around with the dress.

"Oh, I must try this on! It looks like it would fit me perfectly! I wish I could tell him thank you!"

Harry only received clothes this year, but she didn't mind. Torn newspaper littered the floor and the young girl was already wearing her pink dress, along with a new jacket and a pair of jeans underneath the skirt. She lay on the floor surrounded by paper, grinning at the ceiling. John watched her with a smile, his legs tucked under him. Harry lifted her head to look at him.

"I realized… He didn't leave anything for you," she said, frowning. John shrugged.

"You wanted him to visit more than I did," he said.

Harry's frown deepened, but she seemed to accept his answer. She smiled again and pulled her new clothes to her body, giggling.

"This is the best Christmas ever!" she declared.

John only smiled and pulled the sheet tighter around himself. She wouldn't notice that any of her old, ripped clothing was missing, recycled into the clothes she wore now with a little magic in their seams.

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><p><strong>AN: This is dedicated to Old Ping Hai. I will admit that I wasn't completely honest with you when I said I'd been too busy for an update (I really am, but shhh). I know it's not long, and I had been planning for longer, but I hope it will do. Happy Holidays!<strong>


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